


Entropy

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Adviser!Hux, Alternate Universe, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Chancellor!Kylo, F/M, Jedi!Rey, M/M, Multi, Politics are weird and scary, Slow Burn, will update tags as I update the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entropy is the amount of disorder in a system.</p><p>A leader, a protector, an adviser. Three find themselves dueling with the shadows that linger in the Republic. None come out unscathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired (in part) by these arts:
> 
>  
> 
> [ **http://elithien.tumblr.com/post/139656077511/prince-ben-organa-solo-and-bodyguardjedirey** ](http://elithien.tumblr.com/post/139656077511/prince-ben-organa-solo-and-bodyguardjedirey)
> 
>  
> 
> [ **http://arriku.tumblr.com/post/139683805187/warmup-sketch-amidala-bens** ](http://arriku.tumblr.com/post/139683805187/warmup-sketch-amidala-bens)
> 
>  
> 
> Listen. Listen. I have fallen down a pit and I can’t get out and its all Juulna’s fault (as most things are when it comes to me shipping Hux with anyone).  
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

Kylo quite liked the view from his office.

The best view in all of Coruscant: that is what his predecessor told him.

The one who came before him was all pomp and flash, wearing ornate robes at all times, when the Senate was called, even when just sitting in his office.

Kylo would be the first to admit that he appreciated the pageantry that came with the position, the elegance and splendor, but he was not planning on going anywhere that particular day, the Senate not to be called for another three days. So he wore black clothes, the gold trim the only indication that he was someone important. It was a less formal version of what he normally wore to the Senate floor.

It had been a month since his election, after fierce opposition, enough smear campaigns to last a lifetime. Sleepless nights, worrying about his campaign, looking over his shoulder for his disgruntled opponents.

He was tired, still, even after it was all said and done. The stress multiplied after he was sworn in, much to his dismay.

All of the work, the paperwork. It was endless. Constantly bothered some senator or lobbyist or another whenever he dared step out of his office.

There was a moment’s peace. Enough for him to look out onto the city skyline. He could allow himself to feel large and small at the same time.

“Lord Ren, it is the Temple,” a man’s voice sounded behind him, a constant beeping sound accompanying his words.

And, like that, the peace was broken.

Kylo rolled his eyes, turning towards his captain of the guard and his adviser. Hux lounged in one of the armchairs in front of his desk, like he always did. He often joked about why he kept the redhead around, but his mind told him to keep what few allies he had close.

His eyes fell to the glowing machine atop his desk. The Jedi never stopped bothering him, did they?

 _Support this, avoid that, do this, do not do that. T_ hat was all he ever heard from them. Constantly bossing him around. Because he was young, the youngest person ever to have this position. Because he was new, again, only a month into his term. Because they had the Force that that made them inherently wiser than him. Because of the blood that ran through his veins.

His finger hovered over the holo-projector, wishing that he could just ignore it. But he quickly learned that fighting against the Jedi’s wanting to communicate would only get him unwanted visitors.

Kylo only had to hope that it was something menial that he could just pretend to note and forget about.

“Master Skywalker. How may I be of assistance?” Kylo said dispassionately.

Of all the Jedi in the  _fucking_  galaxy, it had to have been him. The one he disliked the most. The one who knew everything about.

The small projection of the Grand Master of the Jedi Temple looked at him sternly, if not  _concerned_  for him. Not a paternal, condescending kind of concern, the kind he was used to, but a ‘we think something is wrong and it has to do with you’ kind of concern.

“We have received word through local intelligence that someone has placed a bounty on your life,” the Jedi said, without further ado.

Kylo only raised an eyebrow. Hux had gotten up from where he was sitting, moving to stand by Kylo’s side.

“Indeed?” Kylo only said, his voice dry and unaffected, despite his instinct to clench his teeth.

If they were trying to get him to show some kind of weakness, it was not going to happen. He had enough of that from the idiots in the Alderaan Senate, the idiots in the Galactic Senate, the ones that followed him since he was a child. He was not going to deal with this, no sir.

“Many people have threatened to kill me, Master Jedi. I do not see the need for alarm. Good day.”

He turned off the holo-projector before the old man could get another word in.

Hux turned to him, clearly alarmed.

“Lord Ren… _Kylo_ , shouldn’t you be more concerned? If the Jedi saw fit to speak to you…”

He slashed the air dismissively.

“It is nothing, Hux. Nothing to worry about.”

He turned back, reaching for the flimsi that contained a summary of the recent Senate meeting, effectively dismissing the subject.

But Hux clearly was not having it. “I must insist. The safety protocols…”

“Stuff the protocols,” Kylo spat, turning in his chair almost violently to glare at the other man. “I am not so weak as to need them now.”

Hux clenched his jaw and turned to glare at the holo-projector like it personally offended him. Kylo almost regretted his words. He wanted to apologize, but that was not in his character. A man of his rank does not apologize for losing his temper. Hux was lucky he did not throw something at his head.

One of the many things his political opponents liked to use as a weapon against him: his so-called _anger issues_.

What a crock of—.

 _Phip_.

The glass cracked with an undramatic noise, the outside winds now flowing through the newly made hole.

A smoking mark, the smell of burning flesh, a strangled noise.

Hux fell as if in slow motion, eyes rolling to be back of his head. Kylo was out of his seat in an instant, the chair crashing to the floor as he tried to catch his falling ally, his confidante.

The white-clad soldiers who were standing at the door rushed him, trying to pry him off Hux’s form. Kylo fought them off, rage and panic coloring his vision, making the world turn hazy.

The redhead was still breathing. He was still breathing, the bolt through his back into his chest. But the fucking Stormtroopers were fawning over _him_ , not the dying man who was at his feet.

“Medic! Get a medic, dammit!” Kylo screamed, having half a mind to punch the nearest soldier in the helmet.

Hux could not leave him alone surrounded by a pack of imbeciles, he would not allow it.

...

Rey watched as Luke turned to her.

The recent report: an attempt on the Supreme Chancellor’s life.

Luke sighed, looking grave.

“Go to the Chancellor’s office immediately. Protect him with your life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TA DA! I HAVE NO FUCKING SHAME. Updates for this will be slow, because I am working on my Reylo fic "Staring into the Sun".  
> Please, give me feedback! It is all appreciated! Hit me up at tiaraofreylos on Tumblr if you want to chat!  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires.


	2. Clearing Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who gave me feedback for this! Apparently the thing that I wrote in a school-stressed panic was not a total piece of shit (which I edited a smidge when I posted this chapter).  
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

Rey’s hands had a vice-like grip on her speeder’s controls as she rode through towards the Senate building.

An attack on the Chancellor’s life. But he was fine, not a scratch on him. His closest adviser, one Brendol Hux, was not. Reportedly, the man took the brunt of the attack in the Chancellor’s stead, shot in the back by a sniper.

She was newly Knighted, for Force sake, and she did _not_ want to deal with this, not with the Chancellor and, by extension, his politics. She would rather be in the library. And she hated the library.

But it was a direct order from Master Luke. So she really did not have much choice in the matter.

The Senate grounds were swarming with police and the press when she landed.

No one stopped her as she approached the front gates, an obviously stressed-out man standing in front of the door. He looked startled and almost relieved when he caught sight of her.

“What can I do for you, Master Jedi?” he asked.

Rey recognized him from a holo-vid a few weeks earlier. He had been at a podium making a statement about some major event or another.

“You work for the Chancellor. What is your name?” she asked.

He straightened. “I am Mitaka, Chancellor Ren’s press secretary.”

Rey nodded with a twitch of her lips at the man’s enthusiasm for his position.

“Where is the Chancellor? I must see him immediately.”

Mitaka cringed, clearly knowing information that she would not like to hear. Rey narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to lie to her.

“He is not here, Master Jedi,” Mitaka croaked.

Rey’s heart dropped and she probed his thoughts, not buying what he just said. But she did not sense any deceit in him.

The Chancellor. Where…where was he, then? If he was not in his suite, then where?

“Where is he?” she growled.

Mitaka stiffened, the bobbing of his throat betraying his attempt to show authority. “I am not at liberty to say.”

Rey stepped closer, her already limited patience wearing thin very quickly.

“I am assigned to protect the Chancellor by Master Luke Skywalker,” she growled, “If the Chancellor dies because you are wasting my time, it will be on you.”

If Mitaka could have gotten any paler, he did.

“He is at the Coruscanti hospital nearby with General Hux, twenty blocks northwest of here.”

Rey tried to stamp out the seething irritation at the whole situation as turned on her heel and strode back to her speeder, making a hard left into the sky. She had rushed to the Senate building and he was not there. Of course, he was not there. That would be too easy for her.

By the time she got to the hospital, he could be dead and she could have failed her assignment before it even began.

When she finally arrived, the hospital was locked down Stormtroopers, making it painfully obvious who was inside. But she could have been blind and have known that the Chancellor was in the building. She could feel him: a pulsing wave of anger and pain.

She had been there when he was sworn into office, only a face in the crowd of Jedi there to pay homage to the new Chancellor. The anger had been there at the time, more muted than it was now. There was also a smug pride in him and a complete lack of the humility he conveyed convincingly in proceeding speech.

It had become increasingly clear through her time as a Padawan why Jedi were not meant to be in politics: the theatrics and deceit that ran rampant through the Senate halls were detestable.

Once again, she parked the speeder and hopped out, making her way through the hospital front doors.

From the chatter of the workers, apparently, all incoming cases were being diverted to other hospitals while the Chancellor and Hux were in the building. Extra security, they said.

She kept her spine straight and her face as stoic as possible as she walked the halls, no one questioning her presence until she was a door away from the Chancellor. There were four Stormtroopers stationed there, the red coloring on their armor telling her that they were part of the elite teams assigned to protect the Chancellor.

They stiffened as she neared, ready to fight, hands going for their sidearms.

“I am Rey of the Jedi Temple. Master Skywalker sent me to protect the Chancellor. Let me pass,” she said as the obvious leader stepped in her path.

“You have to give us your lightsaber,” a female voice spoke through her helmet.

Rey arched an eyebrow at that.

“Why? I cannot protect the Chancellor without my lightsaber,” Rey said slowly, refusing to back down from this matter. If they thought she would let them boss her around, they had another thing coming. The Stormtrooper stared at her as if weighing her options. Rey had a passing thought of using a mind trick on her, but she gestured at the door before she could really put much stock in the idea.

The Chancellor, the most powerful man on Courscant, stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind him. The artificial lights drained what little color he had on his face, his black clothes doing nothing to help with his pallor.

Rey bowed stiffly as soon as she entered the room, the door hissing closed behind her, unsure if he could see her. His eyes were fixed on the bacta tank. But that slight twitch of his posture told her that he heard her enter.

“Chancellor Ren,” she greeted, stepping further into the room. “I am Rey. Master Skywalker assigned me to protect you.”

Rey almost physically recoiled at the wave of anger that came from him in response to her words, though his expression remained unchanged except for a tightening of his jaw.

She allowed herself to relax slightly after mentally sweeping the room, since it was evident that the three of them were to be left alone. But she kept mindful of their surroundings, since she could have a moment’s notice before she would have to wield her blade.

Neither of them said anything for a minute, the sounds of medical machinery filling the silence.

“They say it was an attack on my life,” he spoke up, voice gravelly and monotone.

She could hear a ‘but’ coming, so she did not speak up until it was clear he was finished with his thought. He was already simmering with anger. There was no need to make it worse by interrupting him.

He spat out, “I know that he was the target.”

His hand gestured at the bacta tank and Rey followed the movement to see the famed Hux, unconscious and floating inside. There was a white patch over his chest, underneath she assumed was the blaster wound.

“The sniper had a clean shot at me, but they shot him instead.”

Rey nodded and said, “He means something to you. And that made him a target.”

A slight tremor ran through the black-clad man’s form, almost missed by Rey.

“He is my adviser. Nothing more.”

She nodded again, not going to dispute his words out loud. But she knew that Hux was more than an adviser, if the Chancellor was willing to put himself in harm’s way to keep vigil.

…

Kylo always hated hospitals. They always smelled of antiseptic and death and were always so noisy.

And now he hated them even more, because apparently neither the security nor his own men could keep a Jedi from getting into the room. If Hux had been in charge of the security detail, she would not have gotten in through the front doors. But someone _shot_ him.

The rage over what happened washed over him again and he wanted to punch something.

“I don’t suppose you know who did this?” Kylo said, crossing his arms, turning fully towards the Jedi.

The woman, Rey, tilted her head in confusion.

“What makes you think I know?”

Kylo rolled his eyes. He hated Rey on principle, what else was a Jedi to him but someone for him to hate, but her obvious innocence gave her some credit.

“Well, you Jedi seem to know everything. I received a call from your Master and not two minutes later, my adviser was shot.”

She seemed to realize the hidden meaning of his words and immediately bristled. Kylo felt a small victory over getting an emotion out of her that was not of pure calm or thinly-disguised pity.

“I do not know who did this,” she hissed, “But I was instructed to protect you, _my lord_. So that is what I am going to do.”

“How noble.”

They lapsed into a tense silence, breaking eye contact to watch the bacta tank.

It was his fault. Kylo knew that. This would not have happened if he had stayed as a Senator. But Hux would have said that it was ‘part of the job’ and it was ‘better me than you’.

“I am sorry for what happened to him. Your adviser,” Rey said after a time.

He turned to look again at the Jedi, who kept her eyes fixed to the tank with a frightening intensity.

Her hair was pulled back into three ridiculous buns that lined down the back of her head, her plain robes and cloak and the lightsaber dangling from her belt obvious as to what she was. Thin and several inches shorter than he, her face _pretty_ -looking, Rey was nothing like the old coots from the Jedi Temple.

“He is going to be fine, you know.”

Right, he was supposed to detest her. And she was going a good job at reminding him of that with her cryptic Jedi ways. The medical droid already told him that Hux was going to live. It was only a few more hours before Hux was to be removed from the tank and placed on bed rest for a day or two.

But coming from this Jedi, one who probably had no experience with medicine, annoyed him. What did she know?

“How do you know? The Force?” he scoffed.

Rey’s mouth quirked up in a smile, not answering.

…

He could hear voices, far away. Like he was far underwater and they were speaking on the surface, unintelligible.

All he remembered was pain and someone shouting his name.

Where was Kylo? Was Kylo okay?

Hux wanted to fight against this grogginess that paralyzed his limbs, but he could not bring his limbs to respond, his eyelids weighed down, keeping him in the darkness.

A feather-light touch brushed against his consciousness, foreign and soothing, despite his instinct to recoil from it.

_He is fine. Don’t be afraid. He is fine._

Hux clung onto that truth as unconsciousness swept over him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. And there it is. The seeds (heh) of Reylux are slowly being planted.  
> Anywho, all feedback is much loved and appreciated! And drop me a message on Tumblr at tiaraofreylos if you want to talk Star Wars and Star Wars ships.  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires  
> PS, finals are coming up for me (in 2 weeks), so the next installment might take a while. Maybe. If I am smart, it will.


	3. Premonitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again, once again, with the Reylux garbage. (That I wrote in a pre-finals panic/post-finals haze)  
> Thank you to all who kudos and commented! It is much appreciated!  
> Enjoy!   
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

_Hux was not entirely sure where he was. The room was windowless with durasteel walls. The artificial lights were harsh and bright. Dreamlike and blurry. Clearly a dream._

_Unbidden, he stepped forward, his footfall muted, to the table that sat in the center of the room, a black shape sat atop it._

_He recognized the piece immediately: his personal hand pistol, the one he bought himself the day after he graduated from the Academy. It was illegally modified, but no one ever had the courage to demand he turn it over. It never left his side, not even in sleep._

_“Pick up the blaster, Brendol!” The voice, disembodied and sounding a bit like a drill sergeant and an awful lot like his father, bellowed the words in his ear._

_In most circumstances, Hux would have ignored that voice, ignored it purely out of spite. His father was long dead, good riddance. Hux need not obey him after years of being firmly under the man’s thumb._

_But something was wrong, a sense of urgency and ominousness that he could not shake no matter how hard he tried. It was not just from the tone of the voice, but a heaviness, a feeling being watched._

_He needed to pick up the weapon in front of him and use it. For something important. For someone important._

_Hux raised his arm, his movement sluggish, as though his arm was weighed down._

_The blaster passed through his hand as if he was made of mist._

_“No…” he breathed._

_Hux clutched at it, trying to get it to stay in his grip, each frantic gesture making his arm feel heavier and heavier. But it would not move, just sitting there._

_“He is going to die, if you do not pick it up!” the voice screamed._

_Pain seared through him and everything disappeared._

Hux did not open his eyes immediately as reality returned.

Someone was breathing and moving around. No one was there when he went to sleep that night, so that meant only one thing: an intruder, an assassin.

His hand reached for the sidearm, the pistol that would not come to him in his dream, that was tucked under his mattress. A painful pins-and-needles sensation radiated from his chest outwards, stretching into his fingertips, and a fuzzy, drowsy feeling clung to his mind.

The wrongness of the whole situation did not escape him. He was in _pain_ , something very real, not a dream, and for some reason his weapon was not where it was supposed to be.

“Chancellor, he is awake,” a woman’s voice, a _strange_ woman’s voice, sounded.

Wait. Why was the Chancellor…why was Kylo here?

Memories returned in a rush. A threat to the Chancellor’s life. And then…pain. Nothing.

His hand groped at his chest, feeling a bacta patch slapped almost directly over his heart. And he was sure that there was a matching one on his back, covering an uglier wound. Sniper fire. Of course. But he only heard one shot before everything went dark.

The woman was referring to Kylo, so that meant that he was not hit. Kylo was alive, so the sniper was not trying to kill him.

There was only one shot and it hit Hux.

He was treated for his wounds, so that meant he was in a hospital. But it did not explain the woman’s voice, unless she was a doctor of some sort.

“Come on, Hux. Quit pretending to be asleep,” Kylo’s voice sounded, almost teasing, but mostly impatient.

Finally, Hux turned his head toward the sound, opening his eyes. A dimly lit room and two figures were the first things he saw.

His eyes found Kylo first, instinctive. The taller man looked fine, if not tired and stressed. Then again, he almost always was tried and stressed.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Hux,” Kylo deadpanned.

He would have made a snarky comeback, but Hux wanted to know who the woman was, the first voice he heard when he woke up. He turned to her next, looking her over.

The tan robes, the brown cloak around her shoulders, the lightsaber. A Jedi.

“Who are you?” Hux asked, trying to sound as accusatory and intimidating as possible, despite his weakened position and scratchy voice. He needed to find a glass of water.

It clearly did not work, because she only crossed her arms, her back straightening, not even slightly put-off by his tone.

“I am Rey of the Jedi Temple. I have been assigned to protect the Chancellor,” she said, a simple statement of facts.

Hux sat up to properly glare at this Jedi, refusing to wince in pain as he put weight on his arms.

“Indeed?” he drawled, looking to Kylo for answers.

This was out-of-character for Kylo to ask for the Jedi, _anyone_ , for help, much less protection. Surely the extensive security by Stormtroopers was sufficient?

“It wasn’t my idea,” Kylo said, holding up his hands in surrender.

Not his idea, huh? So the Jedi just came here, without prompting, in a strange sense of duty to the head of the Republic? Unlikely.

“Who’s was it, then?” he asked.

Kylo’s face suddenly twisted in anger and disgust.

“Master Skywalker, apparently.”

Hux knew the name, how could he not? One of Kylo’s favorite things was to complain about Skywalker, especially after all of the questions he had to field about the Jedi, about his family, while he was trying to get elected.

A Jedi was to be protecting Chancellor Kylo Ren now? It only made sense, now that he, his head of security and unofficial bodyguard, was compromised.

He could feel himself shaking, either from anger from fatigue. He did not feel like parsing out which it was specifically.

Hux almost wished that he had actually taken the hit for Kylo and died. It would have been more honorable. But no, it had been meant for _him_. So close to getting him through the heart, but enough to cause nerve damage in his arm.

Someone took the time and effort to kill him, right in the Chancellor’s office, but the sniper was not even competent enough to get the kill.

What a joke.

…

Rey already knew that this was going to be a disaster. Not only did the Chancellor seem to hate her for whatever reason, his right-hand man hated her and they had known each other for a few moments. She could feel their distaste for her, palpable through the Force.

She liked to think that she had a thick skin and could weather whatever these men could throw at her. But if they were going to be uncooperative, it was going to be difficult for her to complete her mission.

How could she be a protector if when she said ‘go right’, they were going to insist to ‘go left’? In a life-or-death situation, they would not have time to argue.

“Master Luke wants to make sure that all precautions are taken,” Rey said.

She was not sure why she needed to justify herself. She was a Jedi, that was enough justification in and of itself. But, it would make her life a lot easier if she knew that they would take her seriously.

“I doubt _Master Luke_ really cares about the Chancellor’s life,” Hux sneered.

Rey would not hit anyone, especially not someone seriously injured, but she really wanted to hit the redhead.

“Of course he does. Believe it or not, the Jedi do not wish harm on the Chancellor or any—,” Rey spat, only to trail off.

There was movement outside, she could sense it. A change of the guard. Her body shifted towards the door, reaching out with the Force, searching for danger.

Rey felt the men’s eyes on her as her hand slowly drifted over her lightsaber.

Something was wrong. But the source was not directly outside the door. It was bigger, heavier. It was further away, but it seemed to close over her ears. Something unlike she ever felt before, something evil.

But as soon as it came, it left. The thread of tension in the Force ebbed away. She could not feel the threat anymore.

“False alarm?” the Chancellor said. His voice was even, but she could feel his nervousness.

Rey forced out the words, “False alarm.”

She needed to tell Master Luke. There was something big on the horizon, she knew it. Unless it was paranoia getting to the better of her, making something out of nothing.

“When can we all leave this place?” she asked aloud, not sure if she was going to get an answer. The building was too big, too many people, too closed in and too open. She wanted to go back to the Temple. Things made more sense there.

Hux muttered, “I want out of here as soon as possible.”

Rey hoped that he would stay in bed for a long time. But the medical droid said that he would be healed within a few days.

But since it was clear the Chancellor was not going to leave until Hux was able to leave, she was stuck there.

Maybe she could get a droid to bring some food. Or she could take the time to meditate. Better than either taking verbal abuse from the two men or staring at the wall until the medical droid gave them the all-clear.

…

“We have a problem,” Kylo spoke up, breaking the silence.

Hux sighed. “There always is with you.”

He was sounding like himself again, snarky and deadpan.

“The Senate convenes in two days,” Kylo sighed.

Hux groaned aloud and Rey turned to face him fully, fire in her eyes.

“I am going to be by your side, Chancellor. Whether you like it or not.”

Kylo bristled. The idea of having this Jedi with him on the Chancellor’s pod when he spoke to the Senate was disgusting. His distaste for the Jedi was not a mystery, and he would be seen as a hypocrite by all if a Jedi was to protect him publicly.

It was not necessary. They could screen everyone who enters the Senate building, have Stormtroopers at every entrance and on each Senate pod. Rey did not need to be anywhere near him.

“I hate to admit it, but she is right,” Hux huffed, “We do not know who we can trust in the Senate. For all we know, some of them conspired to have you assassinated.”

Kylo arched his brow, not just because the two actually agreed on something after it was made clear they did not like each other.

Hux must have known that the sniper meant to hit him, not Kylo. It made no sense for the assassin to go through all of that trouble to get into position, only to make a near-killshot to the wrong person. The hit was on Hux and both of them knew that.

So, why was he not owning up to that?

“What enemies could you possibly have in the Senate?” Rey asked, almost incredulously, interrupting his train of thought.

It took every ounce of Kylo’s being not to sigh, laugh, or yell at this obviously naïve Jedi. Hux had less restraint, rolling his eyes.

“I have plenty of enemies,” Kylo said slowly. “You don’t get to be my rank without making enemies.”

All of the smear campaigns, the inflammatory rhetoric, nit-picking at his past. It was all fresh in his mind, since Kylo’s campaign for Chancellor ended only a few weeks earlier.

It could go further back than his most recent endeavors. He had enemies the instant he started existing, a fact that was practically guaranteed with the family that he was born into.

Rey nodded in understanding. “So whoever is responsible is likely a political enemy. Maybe one of the people who ran against you when you were running for office?”

Kylo could think of a more than a few people who did not hide their distaste for him, a menagerie of figures: senators, diplomats, lobbyists, businesspeople. Some of them he knew the names of, some of them he did not. The unknown factor was what worried him.

“Maybe. It could be anyone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Juulna for beta-ing this (and complaining about me updating)!  
> Feedback is much appreciated!   
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires  
> PS, was Hux’s injury a subtle reference to the Clone Wars? Maybe.


	4. Commencement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that hiatus took a lot longer than I had planned. Blame it on school and just this gross funk I’ve been in the past week.  
> But thank you so much to all who gave me feedback. And a HUGE thank you to those in the Reylux Network Skype group. You all are the best. <3  
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

“Where the fuck is my blaster?” Hux demanded, abruptly changing the subject.

Kylo had been counting down the moments before Hux brought it up. It had taken longer than anticipated, but then again Hux had been plied with painkillers.

He had teased the redhead enough about his near-fetish for the weapon; the fact that it was always with him.

“The doctors took it when they were treating you.”

Nobody moved for a moment.

“I’ll go get it,” Rey sighed, pushing herself from where she leaned against the wall.

Kylo almost shouted for joy that she was leaving the room. She had a presence that weighed on him in a way he could not describe, nor did he want to.

Rey made it to the door and she whipped around.

“You two, stay put,” she said, pointing at the two men.

The door opened and she was gone, the door closing behind her.

A beat, then two beats passed, no words said.

The irritated look on the red-head’s face melted away, immediately replaced by something stony.

“What do we know?” he deadpanned.

Kylo rose out of chair, throwing his hands into the air.

“Absolutely nothing. We should leave before she gets back,” Kylo muttered.

He could, in theory, have Hux lean against him as they quickly made their way to a shuttle of some sort. Or he could carry him. But odds were that Hux would object to being put in any further humiliating positions.

“She wasn’t kidding, Kylo,” Hux sighed, a punch-drunkenness filtering through each word. “She’d probably castrate the two of us if we left.”

Not acknowledging the fact that he was probably right, Kylo began pacing the room.

He hated hospitals; he really did. He had been stuck in this one room for too long but he could not leave, not yet. Hux was still there, injured and, while he’d be damned if he made it obvious to Hux that he did care for him, he was not leaving without him. Not when there was someone who could claim that they shot Brendol Hux still wandering the streets of Coruscant.

The medical droid had left shortly after Hux was taken out of the bacta tank and was nowhere to be seen. Where was a doctor? Could they not allow Hux out of the hospital early? They could make a concession for a man of Hux’s position, right?

They needed to go before Rey came back.

“We have to shake her off somehow.”

Hux’s head lolled to the side, regarding the taller man exasperatedly. “Don’t be an idiot. She’ll chase us down. Pretty damn embarrassing to be seen running from a Jedi.”

He could see it now. With Hux in this state, they would not make it far. They would probably made it down the hall before she used her Jedi powers and figured that they were trying to leave.

“Leave the logistics to someone who was actually in the military.”

 _Logistics_?

“Of the two of us here, which one has a hole in their chest?” Kylo snapped.

What a sight it would have been to an outsider: the Chancellor of the Republic arguing with a shirtless man in a hospital bed.

Logistics, indeed.

“Not a valid point. It’s not like I went out of my way to get shot in the chest by a sniper.”

Kylo shook his head, muttering, “Why would the hit be on you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. It’s not like I made a lot of _friends_ in the Academy,” Hux drawled.

He almost pulled his hair out in frustration. Hux was not _getting_ it. But then again, he was not sure himself why this simple fact was bothering him so much. “No, it is more than that and you know it. Your enemies could not possibly have that much of a vendetta as to hire someone to kill you.”

“Because I am not worth the energy?”

Kylo was going to drug the man with enough painkillers that either he would not wake up for hours or never wake up at all.

“Now who is being the idiot?” he growled. “We both know that this has everything to do with who you work for: me.”

“Expecting me to tender my resignation, Chancellor Ren?”

Kylo’s eye twitched in barely-concealed anger and he opened his mouth to respond, not entirely sure what barbed words would counter Hux’s sarcasm. He was good at getting under his skin. Sometimes he wondered why he kept the irritating man around, then he would remember that Hux was the only competent man for the job.

The door slid open with a hiss and his mouth shut with a click, a silent agreement passing between the two that the conversation was not over but shelved for another time.

Rey stepped in, a blaster dangling from her pointer finger.

“Found it.”

…

“My hero,” Hux drawled sarcastically as Rey strode to his bedside with an air of smugness.

She set the weapon on the table next to his bed.

“I’m surprised you two didn’t try to leave.”

Her voice had an affected lightness, but there was a thread of tension and stress underneath.

“I would be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Kylo said.

Rey rolled her eyes. Her patience was wearing thin. That was obvious to Hux. Even a Jedi could get worn down. As hilarious as it would have been watching her punch Kylo in the face, Hux knew that some measure of peace needed to be maintained.

“Calm down, you two. I am getting a headache from your bickering.”

Nobody spoke for a long time after that; each one lost in their own thoughts.

Hux tried to figure out how long it would take for him to be in fighting condition again. Aside from the blaster wound and all the complications that could come with it, there was little more to the healing process.

The doctor—a Togruta female—finally entered the room.

 Hux was pretty sure the only reason she discharged him so quickly was because of the impatient glowering she received from the two men as she made her cursory medical examination and changed the bacta pads. Or maybe Kylo slipped her some credits when no one was looking.

Either way, she was signing the datapad, authorizing his release.

A nurse helped him put on a clean shirt, buttoning it for him.

Hux grit his teeth. He was being treated like a child, like an invalid. He hated it.

His arm was put in a sling, much to his chagrin.

“To prevent stress on your injury,” the doctor had said.

He knew that as soon as they got away from the hospital, the infernal piece of fabric was going in the garbage. To show that kind of weakness so blatantly was suicide.

He was already being replaced by a Jedi.

Captain Phasma walked in shortly after to tell them how they were to leave.

She was his second-in-command, so it made sense that she would take control over the security detail.

The shuttle was going to land in front of the hospital, the perimeter and surrounding buildings locked down by Stormtroopers. They would walk through the front doors and straight to the ship. It would take them back to the Senate Building.

“Why is it not on a landing platform?” Hux asked.

Behind the mask, Phasma gave away nothing. “The press needs to see you both and know that you are alive.”

Hux and Rey turned to Kylo. He had the finally say in the matter.

“We have to show strength,” Kylo said with a confidence that he obviously did not feel.

And that was that.

Someone handed Kylo a cloak, which he promptly set down, eyeing it with distaste.

“I am not wearing it. I am not going to hide my face like some criminal.”

Nobody dared question him.

“Shall we?” Rey intoned.

Hux stood. He did not shake; he did not falter, as much as he wanted to.

And he nodded.

…

Finally, they were leaving.

Once they got back to the Senate building, she could go to the Temple and consult Master Skywalker about the ominous feeling that seemed to cling to her mind. He would have answers. He always did.

A chrono in the hallway had told her that it was past midnight, but she knew that that city would still be bustling with activity.

It was a good idea for them to move in the cover of night. But the moment they stepped out, Rey knew that would not have mattered when they left the hospital. There was a horde of reporters just outside the hospital’s perimeter. They were shouting, clambering behind the barricade, as soon as the Stormtroopers leading the way stepped into the evening air.

Rey walked beside the Chancellor, keeping her body between him and the cluster of people, nearly running to keep up with his long pace. Hux was only a pace behind them, barely leaning on the Stormtrooper tasked with escorting him to the shuttle.

“Why did they have to land the shuttle so far from the doors?” the Chancellor breathed irritably.

She stopped at the foot of the ramp, letting the Chancellor and those behind her board before her. She could not sense anything on the shuttle and had clearly been checked and double-checked to make sure there was no tampering.

“I’m being paranoid. This entire day has gotten me stressed out and I’m only jumping at nothing. Nothing is wrong,” Rey told herself.

She stepped onto the ramp. Four steps and she would be on the ship.

One. Two. Three. F—.

Rey faltered with a barely audible gasp.       

_Icy claws crawling up her spine and closing around her neck._

She whipped around, turning to the crowd, but the feeling disappeared like mist. Her eyes scanned the expressive and near-frantic faces.

The shadow passed behind a building as soon as she saw it.

Every part of her being wanted to jump down and chase after the mysterious figure. She wanted to demand answers for the two men who hated her.

But it was too late. She could not catch up, even if she ran at full speed.

Hands clenching into fists, she walked up the ramp and into the shuttle.

She had never felt that kind of presence before, not even during her trials.

This was wrong. Something was fundamentally wrong and dark about this whole situation. Something big was looming and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” the Chancellor’s voice rang out. It took all Rey had not to cringe.

Was some cruel god punishing her for something she did? Could she not get a moment’s peace?

Rey wanted to punch him. Rey wanted to sleep. Rey wanted to do a lot of things, but apparently none of those things were going to be done in the foreseeable future unless someone, _anyone,_ had mercy on her.

“I’m fine with standing,” she bit out.

“Suit yourself.”

No rest, no peace for her. Not for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Juulna for looking this over! <3  
> All feedback is appreciated!  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires  
> PS, even weeks later I am still crying about this but floatin-on-bespin made [art](http://floatin-on-bespin.tumblr.com/post/141644098309/chancellor-ren-drawn-for-tiaraofreylos-for-her). Check it out and give her all the love!


	5. Energy Over Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes I changed the title. I just felt that its more concise and better than what it was before :P)  
> And I’m back (a long-ass about of time of not updating)! Thank you to all who commented and left lovely feedback! It is much appreciated!  
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

Nothing happened on the flight back to the palace, which was a relief to Hux. Everyone was on edge, of course. But nothing happened.

No bomb on the shuttle. No assassins hidden amongst the Stormtroopers. No poison in any of the food.

It felt so normal and routine that Hux almost forgot the state he was in for a moment. And then a faint twinge of pain racing from his chest down to the tips of his fingers told him that, indeed, things had changed.

He fought through the fog of painkillers. Kylo pretended to look regal when really he was being pensive and pouty as usual, and the Jedi sulked in the corner with an expression that warred between something like, ‘I just saw a ghost’ and ‘I want some of the food that’s sitting on the table’. Hux wanted to throw one of the spiky fruit at her head to get her to stop staring.

This Rey was a slight woman—that much was obvious—her Jedi robes making her look more bulky than she really was. And she was clearly full of nervous energy. Not serene like the Jedi that Hux had had the misfortune of meeting in the past. She wasn’t a threat to Kylo’s life, not yet.

But what could he do if she was?

It was a short ride from the hospital to the Senate building; Hux knew that much. He knew the upper level of Coruscant like the back of his hand.

He wished the distance was longer. Maybe he could get the pilots to take a detour to prolong this trip. As much as he had wanted to leave the hospital, he didn’t want to go back to Kylo’s office.

They were in for a clusterfuck when they got back. _Of course_ the Senate was convening in a few days. And _of course_ this Jedi insisted that she be beside Kylo during the meeting. Just adding insult to insult and injury.

Hux hated his life.

At least this time they used the Chancellor’s private landing deck. There was no need for pomp; not anymore. The populace knew that their Chancellor was still alive. Those leeches lurking outside the hospital doors probably spread images of them as far as the Outer Rim already. They would be used to flaunt the Republic’s power or deride its weakness.

Behold. The Chancellor of the Republic. Brought low due to this personal blow. Held high in spite of it.

He winced, more in physical pain and less in mental, when he rose from his chair.

He should be taking it easy. That was what the doctor had told him to do. But with events swirling around them like they were, he couldn’t afford to rest.

Kylo, damn him, needed his adviser by his side. The Jedi could fuck off for all he cared.

The premises were crawling with Stormtroopers. Hux wasn’t sure if he was glad or worried about it. More people meant more protection, but it also meant that someone could slip in.

The door slid open and the lights immediately illuminated the room.

Hux turned towards the woman, steeling his features and curling his lips in a sneer.

“Welcome to the Chancellor’s office, Master Jedi.”

* * *

 

Rey wasn’t impressed.

Okay, she was a little impressed, but she refused to let it show.

The room was dimmer than it probably usually was, a metallic screen covering the panoramic windows. Everything else was pristine. If not for the covered window, it looked as if nothing had happened.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take for them to fix the window,” Hux muttered.

Phasma spoke up, “Contractors will be here within the next few days. The windows will be double reinforced so nothing like this happens again.”

“Triple. No less. And I want to screen everyone before they get in the building,” Hux returned.

Captain Phasma nodded, not arguing. “As you wish.”

The Chancellor flicked his hand dismissively. “Leave us. Don’t let anyone on this floor without vetting them first. I don’t care who it is.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Phasma turned and left, the doors shutting behind her. Leaving Rey alone with the two men again.

Ren grumbled something foul under his breath as he strode to his desk, brushing past the Jedi. Hux followed, only to flop on one of the armchairs in front of the large desk.

Rey watched as the Chancellor pressed a few buttons on his holoprojector and a skinny Twi’lek in elegant garb appeared on the screen. The blue light washed over the human’s face, deepening the shadows in his eyes.

She tried to not listen to the message, but words filtered in. Demands about a pending trade agreement and a slightly more polite request for dinner. The Chancellor swore aloud as that message ended and awaited transition to the next.

“Senator Tetel is going to throw a fit if you don’t respond to him,” Hux drawled.

The Chancellor threw him a murderous look and Rey almost smiled. He wasn’t a very level-headed man—not in the slightest. She could feel the waves of energy coming off of him.

“He can wait.”

Ren turned his attention back to the device and the image changed to another person in expensive clothing making demands and requests.

Rey slowly paced around the edge of the room. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. A threat, a sign, a clue… at least a distraction.

Everything was in a sumptuous red. Master Skywalker had told her about how the previous Chancellor loved the color. Apparently his successor hadn’t taken the time to change that aspect of his office.

But, there were some art pieces here and there signaling that there was someone new; a mark of the office’s owner. A large piece of shiny black rock sat on a table pressed against the wall. It was untouched by an artist’s chisel. It looked like it was taken straight from a mountainside and polished.

Splendor, so unfamiliar to her.

She wanted to touch it. But she could still feel the men’s eyes on her, despite the sounds of voices coming from the holoprojector. They’d probably yell at her the instant her skin touched the stone.

‘ _Welcome to the Chancellor’s Office_ ’, Hux had said. Welcome, indeed. She wasn’t truly welcome here.

Too damn bad for all three of them. She didn’t want to be here, either. But she had her orders. The Chancellor could complain to Master Skywalker if he wanted her gone that badly. One of the more experienced Jedi Knights—Poe Dameron came to mind—could take up her burden.

Force, why was she even here? Of all the people in the Jedi Temple, Master Luke had to pick her. Rey was so completely, _utterly_ out of her depth here. There was something evil, bigger than a simple assassination attempt. She would be a fool not to see it. 

She couldn’t find the lingering darkness in this room. There was a certain energy, but not… _bad_. Unfamiliar. Strange.

She just needed to turn around to find the source. Those two men sent ripples through the Force like they were Jedi—only this was less peaceful, more restless and angry. And she was to be subjected to this for the foreseeable future. The amount of meditation would need to compensate for the disquiet growing inside her was getting larger and larger by the minute.

The tinny voices of the holoprojector stopped and there was a moment of silence. Rey felt the tension in the air and suddenly it spiked in a bolt of anger that wasn’t hers but it left her hands balling into fists all the same.

Something crashed, sounding like shattered glass.

Rey turned on a pin, her hand drifting to her lightsaber.

* * *

 

The knick-knack made a satisfyingly loud sound as it impacted with the wall. It was even more satisfying to see the little Jedi jump in surprise, ready to fight.

Hux was utterly unaffected, as usual.

But even then, it did little to quell the anger that rose in Kylo’s chest and tinted his vision. Six messages, all from senators, asking for this or that. The lack of sympathy for Hux was like metal nails on his skin, but he had gotten used to that. Security detail—because technically that was what Hux was—was given little to no mind.

But that was not what bothered him.

Six messages, and nothing from the _filth_ who had disturbed the peace. He had been gone from his office for hours. And they hadn’t said a word. No bragging statement, no demand…nothing.

A ghost in the night, able to attack in broad daylight.

“So, no gloating? No taunts? How disappointing,” Hux muttered. He actually sounded disappointed that nobody came forward. Of all the people in the room, Hux probably wanted answers more than anyone else.

“You think the people behind this would be so stupid as to leave a message?” Rey asked Hux incredulously. She had relaxed from her tense position—clearly realizing that there was no threat—her hand moving back to hang by her side.

Hux rolled his eyes. “There are ways, Master Jedi, of leaving anonymous messages on these channels. We have the tightest security imaginable, but there must be a hole somewhere that they could exploit.”

Kylo’s hands closed over the edges of his desk and squeezed, the joints in his fingers popping.

“They are cowards. Trying to intimidate us,” he hissed.

If he was to die by an assassin’s hand, let him see who killed him. He didn’t want to die not knowing why and by whom.

“What do they get out of this?”

Kylo fixed her with a stare. “Notoriety, for one.”

He looked down at his hands. Corded muscle shifted under skin, knuckles turning white as he squeezed and squeezed.

“They show their muscle,” he added. His hands released their hold, tension fading and returning in a different fashion as his fingers curled into fists.

“They show that they could have killed the Chancellor of the Republic but instead chose to shoot his right hand.”

He pretended not to see Hux shift at the words.

“True power is being able to choose who lives and who dies.”

Rey nodded and Kylo was actually grateful for it. At least she wasn’t _that_ naïve. “Do you have that power?” she asked.

Kylo hesitated. That was just it, wasn’t it? _Power_. Because behind all of the rhetoric and the ass-kissing that politicians did…underneath it all, they did the things they did for power. There was nothing else. There was no other motive. Wealth, maybe. Altruism, hardly.

No angels in politics.

He liked to believe that he was above it. He was distancing himself from his family name and the fates that could have been his, but never were: Senator of Naboo. Senator of Alderaan. Jedi Master.

He was Kylo Ren. His own man. This was for power, perhaps. But this was also for himself. He was proving himself. He was elected to the highest position in the Republic, wasn’t he? He had to have been doing something right. This was not his family speaking for him. This was his initiative, his abilities, that had got him this far.

And he had power. He was Chancellor. But what kind of power did he hold?

“In a sense. I can choose where funds are allocated. I can choose where we send troops,” he allowed. “Those things can mean the difference between life and death.”

That look of contemplation flickered over her face again. “But you don’t kill people directly.”

Hux snorted.

“Is something funny?” Rey asked. The genuine curiosity stayed in her voice, not angry. It was as if Hux presented her with a puzzle that she had yet to figure out. She was young, still learning.

How old was she anyway?

“Whether we pull the trigger or have someone else do it for us means nothing,” Hux said, each word slow and deliberate. “Someone still dies and it would be our fault.”

His hand twitched—almost unconsciously—towards his chest, where the near-fatal wound was hidden.

Hux continued, “A hired gun is a hired gun. What we need to worry about is who hired them. They are the real enemy.”

“So, we _shouldn’t_ go after whoever shot you?” Rey asked, now sounding exasperated. Clearly, she wanted a direct answer.

The redhead’s lip curled. “Oh, I still want to kill the person who had the audacity to shoot me. But I would rather kill the person behind all this.”

His fingers picked at a stray thread on the chair.

“I will contact some of my… _friends_ in the underworld. Maybe they heard something.”

“Bala Tik?” Kylo suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Kylo watched as color—barely noticeable—rose on Hux’s cheeks and pretended that it didn’t send a feeling of something that definitely _wasn’t_ jealousy blooming in his chest.

“I can…mediate on it,” Rey offered, albeit hesitantly. “I sense something behind this. Something dark.”

“Oh really?” Kylo crossed his arms, his mind immediately going to _another_ Jedi. How much did the illustrious and omniscient Luke Skywalker tell her about him? How much did Rey know? “The Force will give you the answers?”

Rey mirrored him, her posture tensed again. “It will guide me to them, _my lord_. This could be solved even before the Senate convenes again.”

“Speaking of, how are we going to deal with that?” Hux asked.

Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to have a monstrous headache. He needed to sleep. But sleep was not going to happen.

He breathed, “I’ll figure something out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta daaaaaa! –jazz hands-  
> Okay so hopefully the next chapter isn’t going to take 2 months to show up.  
> Thank you so much to Alania for doing a word war with me and helping me get half of this damn thing done! And thank you to Juulna for looking this over and catching my mistakes and also just being a great cheerleader <3.  
> All feedback is appreciated! Definitely spurs me into updating faster ;)  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires


	6. Evidence of Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -waves hand- It didn’t take me months to update this fic.  
> Big thanks to all who commented and such!   
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. This is just for my own (twisted) amusement and not for profit.

Kylo was almost certain he wrote down the same sentence at least twice somewhere in this speech. He couldn’t be sure because words danced on the page and ran together into an incoherent mess.

By the nine Corellian hells, when was the last time he’d slept? The world was getting heavy and slow and his speech was making less and less sense by the moment.

He turned in his chair to glance outside—the skyline usually told him what time of day it was—only to see an impersonal wall of metal.

His eyes found a chrono.

Maker, was it _that_ early in the morning?

“You should sleep,” Hux drawled, echoing his thoughts.

Kylo had pretended not to notice that Hux had dozed off several times as he worked on his speech.

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” Hux continued.

That was rich coming from the man with a hole in his chest.

“Very well,” Kylo said. “I will work on my speech tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow,” Rey said.

Kylo’s attention snapped to her and she only stared impassively back at him. He had almost forgotten she was there. If she was fatigued, she was good at not showing it.

Deciding to ignore her, he stood and started out the front doors, towards his living quarters. Hux followed behind him and Rey trailed last.

The one-story ride down the elevator was tense and awkward at best. Rey kept to the corner, keeping as physically far from the two men as possible.

There were already four Stormtroopers posted in his quarters by the time they got there. They snapped to attention as soon as the elevator doors opened, saluting.

Nobody acknowledged them as Kylo made his way to his bedroom, followed by his two… _protectors_. Maker, he wasn’t a child needing to be doted over. At least they weren’t insisting to watch him while he slept.

“We will stand guard outside your door,” Rey said with a solemnity that seemed almost ridiculous to Kylo’s fatigue-addled brain.

“You do that,” he muttered.

He shut the door without ceremony.

Shedding clothes as he went, Kylo stumbled to the refresher, starting the water. It was blisteringly hot and he welcomed it.

He didn’t realize how disgusting he had felt until after the filth had sluiced down the drain. He was so tired. He didn’t even have the energy to jerk himself off.

It was almost laughable.

After nearly falling over, he turned off the water. He stood there, dripping, unsure what to do after he dried himself.

The idea of sleeping naked crossed his mind, but the rational part of him that was still awake told him that if he needed to get out of the building in a hurry, he shouldn’t go out exposed to everyone on the planet.

He slipped into a plain shirt and pants instead and lay in his bed, sinking into the covers.

Coruscant truly never slept, but if it was still awake, he wouldn’t have known. The shades and the thick windows blocked light and sound from the outside.

Kylo wondered what kind of dreams would meet him.

Darkness overcame him before he could think on the question for much longer.

* * *

Hux and Rey were alone—totally silent—for fifteen minutes. Then, Hux started back the way they came, towards the elevator

“Where are you going?” Rey asked, accusation leaking into her voice.

Hux didn’t turn back.

“Out.”

Rey started to follow him, but stopped. She looked back to the closed doors.

“Hux!” she hissed.

He stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind him. His presence in the Force was still bright. Rey could recognize it from anywhere now. Strong, angry, calculated, guarded.

“Force, that man,” she muttered.

If he was going to leave the Chancellor open for attack, fine by her. He would be to blame if something happened.

She paced a few times in front of the doors, slowly. She stopped and got to the ground in a meditative pose. If she was going to be stuck out there for hours on end, then she was going to get some meditation in, damn it.

Breathe in, breathe out. Eyes closed, back tall. The Force. Find the Force. Let it breathe through the body.

Maybe five minutes passed and she reached for her comlink.

Meditation wasn’t going to happen. That much was clear.

There was one person who came to mind that she could talk to.

Odds were that he was asleep, but Poe Dameron was nothing if not unpredictable.

She had to wait only a few seconds before a familiar voice sounded on the other end.

“Wazzit? Rey?” Poe muttered ineloquently.

“Is this a bad time?”

A yawn and a sigh from the other end. A sudden exhaustion—which had gone ignored until that moment—swept over Rey, but she bit it down.

Chancellor. Watch the Chancellor.

“Well, Master Ku had insisted that I awake earlier for meditation. Haven’t been doing that since he told me that last month. Might as well start now.”

There was rustling, clearly Poe getting up from his pallet.

“How’s it going?” Poe chirped.

Rey leaned against the wall. “I’m tired. I’m hungry.”

“Aren’t you always hungry? But I meant with the Chancellor and his hound. I assume this is the reason for your call.”

“Well, they already hate me. So. There’s that.”

Poe laughed.

“Of course Chancellor Ren hates you. With the history he’s had with the Jedi Order, I’m surprised he hasn’t tried kicking you off the nearest balcony.”

Well. _That_ was news to Rey.

“What history? What are you talking about?”

There was a pause. His hesitation was almost palpable despite the space between them.

“Ah, better ask Master Skywalker about that. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you the story.”

That was disturbingly cryptic for Poe. The older Jedi was usually up-front when it came to matters regarding the Jedi Order. They were both Knights. They were both on equal ground.

Why wasn’t he telling her?

“I could always ask the Chancellor himself,” Rey muttered, glancing at the bedroom doors.

“I literally _just_ told you about him and a balcony.”

Rey laughed at that, and trailed off as remembered what Hux had said about people able to get into even secure channels.

Was the enemy listening in to what was being said, right now?

“I can sense your distress, Rey,” Poe sighed.

She wasn’t—never was—great with reining in her emotions. But this shadow she felt, this heaviness, was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Her lip curled as she felt the Chancellor’s presence, a burning brand through the Force, almost searing.

No distress. Not to him.

Wherever Hux was, he had better be enjoying himself.

* * *

Leave it to the Guavian Death Gang to hole up in the shittiest bar in the lower levels.

Bums, bounty hunters, small-time criminals, and prostitutes of every species mingled, danced, and drank in a space roughly half the size of Kylo’s office. It was early in the morning, technically, but it was perpetual night in the lower levels and these people showed no sign of stopping.

The faulty multi-colored lights were almost seizure-inducing and the bass of the music pounded another hole in Hux’s chest.

He cursed himself for leaving Kylo alone with that Rey girl. But the longer he waited, the more likely some bit of information could get missed.

He pushed his way through, keeping an eye out for pickpockets.

Bala Tik was definitely in the back room. But, if Hux’s luck told him anything, he was in the back room either passed out drunk or with a prostitute. Or both.

A man stood in front of the door with a rifle slung across his back. He glared acidly at Hux as he approached.

“You’re new,” Hux drawled, almost drowned out by the music.

The man—boy, really—sneered.

“Been ‘round long enough. What’s it to you?”

Hux was really not in the mood for this. His good hand twitched towards the blaster at his hip. He was supposed to be subtle about being down here. Murdering this kid in the middle of the bar _definitely_ lacked subtlety.

“I’m here to see Bala Tik. Let me through.”

He didn’t give the kid any time to say anything; he stepped closer until he was chest to chest with him.

“My name is General Brendol Hux. Let me through,” he growled.

The gang member sniffed and opened the door. He stuck his head in and shouted, loud enough for Hux to hear, “Got a _Brenol_ Hux here to see you, boss. Should I kill him or wha’?”

“For fuck’s sake, Yinna, let the man in!” Bala Tik yelled back, exasperation plain in his voice.

Yinna stepped away, glaring daggers at Hux.

“Go,” he grumbled.

Hux entered, resisting the urge to smack his shoulder into Yinna’s as he passed. Insolent little brat couldn’t even pronounce his name correctly. The door shut behind him, doing little to muffle the music.

The room was small and dingy and smelled like mold. Blood, booze, and something Hux didn’t want to identify stained the chipped wood of the table.

Facing the door, Bala Tik leaned back in his chair, the light overhead illuminating the grin pulling at his face. “Ah, Little Red, what brings you here?”

Hux’s eye twitched at the sound of that old nickname. “You know exactly why I’m here.”

“You’re still standing, eh?”

Tik made a blaster with his thumb and forefinger, flexing his thumb.

He looked Hux up and down and Hux realized he probably looked like ten pounds of bantha shit in a five pound bag.

“Well, barely standing,” Tik amended, “Sit down.”

Hux was grateful that Tik didn’t round the table to pull out the chair for him. Maker, he was injured but he was not an invalid. He bit back a grunt as he sat, a dull throbbing radiating from his chest down to the fingertips of his left hand.

“Have a drink.”

Hux waved off the offer. “As much as I’d like to reminisce about the good old days, I think alcohol compounded with painkillers would put me flat on my ass.”

Tik shrugged and knocked back his glass. “So you say. More for me.”

Hux sighed. He thought about insisting that Tik stop drinking and give him answer while sober.

“Have you heard anything?” Hux asked.

“About the unlucky bastard who shot you?”

Hux gritted his teeth, patience wearing thin almost immediately. Leave it to Bala Tik to make light of the situation. He wasn’t sure why he expected anything different.

Tik raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No funny business. Got that stick shoved up your ass after you started looking after the ‘Youngest Chancellor in History’.”

Maker, save him.

“I _need_ information,” Hux growled.

Tik slammed his glass on the table, waving his free hand.

“Honestly, I know shit,” he said, “Recent days, it was same old, same old. Shit, we didn’t even know there _was_ a plot until the holos and that was after it all went down.”

There it was. A dead end, just what Hux needed. He wanted to bang his head against the table. Maybe have a drink and let it put him to sleep.

“Well, Little Red, if it’s any consolation…”

Bala Tik stood and leaned in close, his breath smelling like cheap whiskey and even cheaper cigarettes.

“You’ll have a dignifying scar.”

Hux didn’t recoil, didn’t show any reaction. Fuck, this man was a flirt, drunk or sober. It was ancient history, the two of them. It barely counted as ‘history’ to begin with. A couple quick fucks and handjobs during arms deals really didn’t count as a relationship. But, it wouldn’t do him any good to burn this bridge by outright spurning him. He needed the information. He needed the connections.

He changed the subject, stating slowly, “So whoever did this has probably disappeared. Living large in the Outer Rim with the payment.”

Tik nodded, his eyes flicking down to Hux’s lips.

“Can you give me anything?” Hux prodded. “Anyone to talk to?”

Tik leaned back, taking the hint. His face twisted in contemplation, as if he was going through all the names in the underworld that he knew.

Then he spoke up. “Bazine Netal. Bounty hunter.”

The name was familiar. Hux prided himself in knowing who was in the know in the underworld. Netal was a small-time hunter the last time he checked. But he stopped caring about the little players after Kylo was elected to Chancellor.

The heads of the crime gangs and their right and left hands. The big name bounty hunters. Those, he knew like the back of his hand. The threats. The ones who may come knocking expecting a favor.

“What about her?”

“She has connections in some deep, dark shit.”

“And?”

Tik exhaled loudly through his nose and took another sip from his glass.

“Maker, you’re slow today. She _knows_ people, Red. Odds are, she knows who carried out the hit, maybe even who hired them. And…”

Tik trailed off.

Hux saw the change instantly. He closed up, his eyes shifty, leaning closer like he was afraid someone would hear, despite the fact they were the only ones in the room.

“What else, Bala? Tell me,” Hux hissed.

Bala Tik inhaled and exhaled, collecting his thoughts.

“Credits have been bouncing ‘round. Millions and millions of credits, not to mention ships and arms, appearing and disappearing. Nothing is staying in one person’s hands for long. Couple weeks ago, got a payload in worth 10 million credits. Next day, a Twi’lek comes in asking for the items. Offered to take it off my back for 15. Asked about it a couple days after that and it had been sold for 17.”

“What was the payload?”

“Mandalorian shit. Armor, packs, blasters, missiles. Top of the line. Enough for at least seventy men.”

Black market arms had been a thorn in the Senate’s side for years. Hux knew that at least a quarter of the people on the Senate had some connection to the black market, which often paralyzed any legislation that came to the table. And Mandalorians were protective of their gear. Death or a really lucrative deal were often the only ways to separate a warrior from their weapons.

“ _Kriff_ ,” Hux breathed.

“ _Kriff_ , is right. Even the Hutts are wading into this. They’ve been laying pretty low recently, after the shit Ziro pulled a while back. So, this is some serious shit.”

“Serious shit,” Hux echoed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kylo would want to hear about this. If someone was forming and arming a militia, enough to be a threat…

Tik pointed a finger at Hux’s face, seriousness hardening his features. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Hux figured that he would want to stay as far away from this whole mess as possible.

“Where can I find Netal?”

“Last I heard, she’s holed up on Takodana.”

Great. Fantastic. Takodana, a forest planet in the Mid-Rim. It would still be an impossible search if Hux didn’t know that there was only one place on Takodana where she’d be. And that was the one place Hux really didn’t want to go.

At least she wasn’t in the Outer Rim or the Unknown Regions. If he needed to leave his post, he didn’t want to leave for long.

Hux stood, pushing his chair back.

“Thanks, Bala. I owe you one.”

He’d ask Kylo to look away the next time the Guavian Death Squad got caught doing something illegal. That would be sufficient repayment for this lead.

Tik held up his glass, winking at him. “Watch yourself, Little Red.”

Hux allowed a tight smile. “I always do.”

The smile disappeared as he turned to leave the room and reentered the common area. Everyone in his path parted as soon as they caught the expression—steel and ice—on his face.

Hux hopped into his speeder and soared into the early dawn.

He needed to get back to Kylo. He couldn’t trust him alone with the young Jedi, even though Tik hadn’t implicated the Jedi Order.

He had plans to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -jazz hands-  
> Big thanks to Juulna for looking this over and catching my mistakes! You da best!  
> All feedback is appreciated! Hopefully it doesn’t take me forever to update the next time!  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires  
> PS, check me out on Tumblr at tiaraofreylos


End file.
